Pendant

I didn’t go to Ethan’s funeral. Losing him hurt too much. I saw him die slowly in front of me, and I wasn’t able to do anything about it. I was helpless, useless. I lost my soulmate because I was too weak.

I was in the Treatment Center for awhile afterwards. I got so depressed; they thought I was a danger to myself.

Three months and one life overhaul later, they thought I have moved on, but the truth is, I haven’t. I fiddled with my pendant. As long as I have it, Ethan will always be with me. ALWAYS.

Friends

JANET

Adriana was my best friend from college. She, Mark and I were like three peas in a pod. It was always us.

Adriana did not like talking about her life. She was born to keep secrets, and everything about her, she kept deep inside. The only things that we knew about her were the things we found out as time went on by.

And then one day, she opened up about one thing we always wondered about, but didn’t get to figure by ourselves.

Everything she had in her life was handed to her on a silver platter. Everything she thought she needed, everything she thought she wanted. She was loved, but she wasn’t happy. Happiness eluded her. It always has. Then she found Seth, and everything went from black and white to a spectrum of colors.

She said so herself: Seth is her happiness. They have fallen in love, and she knew he was the one she was supposed to be with the rest of her life.

After college, we went to our own separate ways, but the three of us kept in touch. Best friends forever, we said. No matter where we are in the world, the three of us will always be with each other in spirit, no matter what.

But three years after college, the calls from both of them became less frequent, and we started growing apart.

Not that we really ever got to that point. Adriana, Mark and I knew, that no matter how long we have lost touch, we can always count on each other whenever one of us is in need.

The last time I heard from both of them was when Adriana conference called us and squealed the news: She was engaged. That was three months ago.

In the middle of the night in June, my phone rang.

“Janet?” it was Adriana’s mom. “Sorry to be calling so late.”

“It is okay, Aunt Karen.” I said in a sleepy voice. “Is everything okay? Is Adriana okay?”

I heard her give a shuddering breath. “Can you come soon as possible? Adriana needs you, and I’ve run out of options.”

I have a meeting first thing in the morning, but if Adriana’s mom is desperate to call me, I knew things are almost out of hand.

“I’ll be on the next flight out.”

I was on my way to the airport fifteen minutes later when my phone rang again, this time, from Mark.

“Jan, did Adie’s mom call you?”

“Yes. I’m on the next flight out, you?”

“Same here. Call me when you find out what time you arrive.”

Our flights got in twenty minutes apart. When I arrived, Mark was already waiting for me with a rented car.

We have visited her hometown exactly once, five years ago. Luckily, it’s small, and we managed to find our way to her family’s house before sunrise.

Her mother opened the door and let us in, but she wouldn’t tell us anything. She motioned for us to go on to Adriana’s room, and there we found her, curled up under her sheets, in the dark, with her heavy curtains drawn.

Mark and I looked at each other with concern. Our friend hated the dark. She hated drawn curtains, and she hated blankets. We approached her cautiously. She’s a light sleeper. We did not want to wake her.

Mark closed the door lightly behind him, and the sleeping figure on the bed stirred. “I said I do not wish to see anyone.” Her voice was throbbing and muffled.

“Adie?” I called softly. “It’s me, Janet.”

“And Mark.” He added.

She sat up in bed slowly, and we rushed to her side.

I turned on her bedside lamp, and I was about to ask her what happened, when I saw her face.

She was cut and bruised, and there was a bandage on her head.

She started crying, and there was nothing that Mark and I were able to do but hold her.

Again

It has been two years since Adam and I spoke to each other.

It was weird, not having him around. I remember how people used to tell me that my eyes sparkle when I talk to him, or about him. Adam is that person to me. Well, he was.

Of course, I couldn’t put my life on hold for one person. Just because we didn’t end well, doesn’t mean that I can’t be happy again. I can be, maybe not the same way that I was happy with Adam, but I can be happy again.

After I found out that he was seeing someone else besides me, I stopped talking to him. It doesn’t matter how much I love him: I can’t be with someone who does not love me back the same way.

There was no need for explanation. There was too much hurt, and pain, and frankly, anger. I was such a twist of bad emotions, I can’t figure out how to deal with it.

And then one day, out of nowhere, I bump into him.

My eyes widened in shock. I couldn’t even say hello. There’s a lump in my throat and I realized that two years cannot heal a heart that’s too broken up. There was no such thing as numb. There was only hurt.

He was equally surprised to see me. “Sara.”

He smiled at me awkwardly, and I thought I was going to cry. See, more than anything, it hurt to see the same gentleness in his eyes that has always been there whenever he looks at me.

I choked back a greeting in a small voice.

All of a sudden, I found myself with him under the tree where we carved our names together, one summer a long time ago.

I couldn’t look at him. I was afraid that if I look into those brown eyes again, I will start crying.

We sat there for a long time. The sun was beginning to set when I finally decided to speak.

“Why are we here, Adam?” I asked him.

He sighed. “Frankly, Sara, I don’t know. I just know that I wanted to be here with you.”

He held my hand in his, and it felt electric. I pulled my hand away.

I let out a trembling breath. “You can’t just do that to me, Adam. We’re over. We have been over for a long time now.”

“Why, what happened to us?”

I shook my head. If he didn’t know what went wrong, then maybe he was a bigger jerk than what I already thought of him to be.

“Look at me, Sara.”

I turned to look, and suddenly, all the tears I tried so hard to keep came bursting out. Before I knew it, I was yelling.

Then he grabbed me and hugged me fiercely, and as much as I hated to admit it, being in his arms still made me feel safe.

I started crying.

“You hurt me too much, Adam.” I said in a small voice. “All the crap we pulled on each other: the lying, the cheating, and the feeling of being trapped in the middle of nowhere.”

He took my face in his hands and wiped my tears gently. “I never meant to hurt you, Sara.”

I nodded. “I know. But you did.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do, Adam, I know you do. But you don’t love me right.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “If you do, you never would have hurt me on purpose.”

“Please, Sara, I know was my fault. I’ll make up for it, I promise. Please, let’s give it one more shot? I won’t screw it up this time.”

I heard that before. And I know that I will hear that again and again so long as I stay with him. “Don’t do this to me.”

His eyes were pleading. “I miss you.”

I wanted badly to tell him I miss him too. I wanted to tell him that I missed him too much, that it actually hurt just to think about it. I wanted to tell him I never stopped caring. I never will.

“Adam, you can’t just take back the things that went wrong. You had your faults, I had mine. We were anything but perfect. Seeing someone else behind my back is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“But for the most part, we were happy.” He said, and I knew he was right.

“We were happy for the wrong reasons.”

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore.”

I shook my head. I know that would be a lie, because I still do.

“One last chance, Sara, please.”

I started crying again.

“I wish I never fell in love with you to begin with.”

The hope in his eyes faded away. “Do you really mean that?”

It took awhile for me to answer. I nodded.

“The thing is that what we want and what we feel are two different things. No matter how much I want not to be in love with you, I can’t change the fact that I am.”

“How many times would I have to make up for hurting you?”

I was fighting the urge to yell at him again. “You can’t. If you loved me right, you never would have hurt me on purpose.”

I traced the lines and curves of his face gently. “I love you Adam, but I can’t be with you.”

The moon was high up in the night sky by then. I kissed him on the cheek. “Bye.”

“I love you.” I heard him say as I started to walk away.

I paused, but I did not look back. If I did, I would have gone back to him; I would have taken him back. And as much as I wanted to, I know I can’t.

There was too much hurt, too much pain, and too many chances.

We had to draw a line somewhere.

One day, when all the hurt is gone, maybe, just maybe, we will end up together again.

For now, all I can do is to let go.

Crossroads

When do you get to the point of giving up everything for the one you love?

In junior year, we talked about getting married. By the time we were in our senior year, we were sure we will be, so it was no surprise when he proposed when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. We had everything all figured out: He will take over his family’s business; I will put up my own. We will have kids by the time we’re twenty-four, and I will manage my business from home so that I can take care of our babies. We’re going to have a boy, then a girl.

As graduation rolled around, things changed. The things we wanted changed. Our priorities changed.

I realized I do not want to get married right out of college. I wanted to travel. He wanted the same thing, so we decided to put off our wedding for another year. We wanted to travel together for a year before we start our lives as husband and wife.

Unfortunately, our travel plans did not match. I wanted to travel to Europe, maybe live in Greece or Italy for awhile. I wanted the life: the food, the travelling, the shopping, and the adventure. Max, on the other hand, wanted a different thing altogether. He wanted to do missionary work in third world countries in Asia and Africa.

I wasn’t willing to go to Africa, not even for him. I was hoping he would be willing to give up the missionary work to go to all the romantic places with me, but I’d be hoping for too much for that.

We can’t give up everything for each other… not just yet.

So we decided to go on our own separate ways. When the year is over, we will go back home, and then we will go on with the wedding.

A long distance relationship is easier said than done, especially since he and I have been together for quite a long time. When you’re used of having one person by your side, and the two of you have grown up together the way he and I did, long distance is hard, even if it’s just for a year.

We thought we will manage, but five months and ten cities later, we found it harder and harder to be together. We crossed different paths, and we started to grow apart.

I spent New Year’s in Paris. The lights looked gorgeous from my hotel, but all I can remember was that if I was supposed to be here at all, I was supposed to be with the person I love.

I didn’t know how I went from being in love and ready to get married one year, to being alone the next.

I continued touring. After Paris and the French Islands, I decided to go to Italy. By February, I was in Verona, writing a letter to Juliet, and checking out vineyards and cheeses. Valentine’s Day got nearer, and I decided it will be too much to spend the day of hearts in the City of Love, especially since I’m alone there when I’m supposed to be already married, have we decided to go on with our original plan. So I went to Rome instead.

Rome was beautiful. It was truly one of the most romantic places in the world.

But being alone in Rome on a day that lovers were supposed to share is sort of heart-wrenching, considering that everywhere I look, couples are paired up, and it hurts to see them when my supposed to be lasting relationship is in a “cool-off” stage.

I’m not sure if it’s illegal to dip my feet in the Trevi Fountain. I mean, I wanted to, but there are a lot of people and I really didn’t want to get arrested just in case, so I sat by the fountain for awhile until I started feeling nauseous as lovers around me were kissing and cuddling on the steps.

I sighed and tossed a coin into the fountain. Heck, if Max won’t be my valentine, maybe I can find someone who spoke English and would want to talk to me. I mean, as if being alone on the steps didn’t make me look pathetic already.

I was about to stand up when someone placed a long stemmed red rose on my lap.

I looked up at the person connected to that hand that gave me the rose.

When do you get to the point of giving up everything for the one you love?

You don’t.

Because no matter which separate roads you take, if it’s real, you will find your way back to each other. If you won’t, then maybe you were never really meant to be.

I smiled.

Starstruck

They say that college is very different from high school. They were wrong. Sure, there were the obvious things: independence, flexible hours, definitely more expensive tuition. But, see, besides those, nothing really changed, as far as your peers went. You find amazing people to be friends with, and the rest are all both crazy and insecure, or are judgmental backstabbers. There are those who you like, but then think that they would never like you back.

And there are those who you befriend with caution.

Carter is one of those.

I was a freshman, he was a junior.

I’m not really one who would befriend a lot of people. I choose my friends carefully. And as it turned out, I found myself in an organization where people are too rowdy and noisy for my taste. I found, that besides the few people I met at the dorm before classes started, I am not willing to befriend anyone else. I don’t like people who do not carry themselves with at least a bit of class. It’s a bit elitist of me, I guess. But if the birds of the same feather do flock together, I’d rather be a swan than a duck.

I met Carter during an org meeting. The people were noisy and rowdy, and I was not really interested in the agenda, so I sat in a corner, listening to my MP3.

I sat there for awhile, and I have been appreciating my alone time despite the less than pleasant surroundings, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person sit next to me. I glanced in his direction, but realized this was a mistake when he thought it was an invitation for a conversation.

He held out his hand. “I’m Carter.”

“Lea.”

Nothing much happened after that first meeting. I saw him in school from time to time, and there are the occasional hellos, but it wasn’t until my sophomore year when we really became friends.

At first it was just breakfast or dinner together with my roommate, and then it was just the two of us having our meals together. We talk outside his last period classroom during his personal breaks as I wait for my own class to start. Other than that, there was nothing, really.

Until the town festival, that is.

The afternoon when my guy friends and I were supposed to go out, I ran into him on my way back to the dorm.

“Hey.” He smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Hey.”

“Are you going to go out celebrating the festival later?” he asked me. I nodded.

“Yeah, I had plans with my guy friends, and we’re going to the carnival after dinner.” I thought it was impolite to tell him of my plans and not invite him, so after a pause, I added, “wanna come with?”

“I’ll see if my meeting goes smoothly. I’ll text.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

We waved goodbye.

Later that evening, Carter and I met outside the restaurant after dinner. He tagged along with my friends and we went to the carnival together. He and I shared a Ferris wheel ride, and I realized that if only he shared the same sort-of-but-not-really romantic feelings I have for him, it would have been a romantic starry night.

We continued on being friends. We still had our meals together. We talked in the hallways, and sometimes, he visits me in the dorm. He broke up with his girlfriend. I didn’t even know that he had one.

Out of nowhere, a few weeks after they broke up, he told me that he liked me; that he had since I was a freshman. He said he found me fascinating and unpredictable. He said that I am a typical girl, but not really. My wit and sarcasm drew him in. At the very least, he said he found me interesting that he never got bored when he was with me.

I liked him. I did. But my -of-but-not-really romantic feelings for him are just that: NOT REALLY. I liked him, but i wasn’t in love with him. It would be unfair for his part to have a girlfriend who isn’t really into him. He wouldn’t deserve that.

After he declared his feelings for me, I started to avoid him. I had to. I stopped having meals with him; I stopped talking to him in the hallways. I tried my best to evade him.

He eventually got the point.

We didn’t speak for the rest of the semester, and I didn’t congratulate him on his graduation day.

The following school year, we started talking again. He was living in the city, an hour away, and we saw each other from time to time. We hung out once in awhile, and we became friends once more.

But that year was busy for me, and we rarely spent time together.

Then, junior prom came up.

I had three prospective dates, but I went with Carlo, who, as it turned out, was an amazing prom date.

The night was great, but my big surprised arrived late.

Carter looked handsome in his tux. My classmates came up to him to say hi, but he waved them away politely. He came up to me and asked my hand for the last dance.

I looked at Carlo, who just smiled and gave us a slight bow.

I haven’t hung out with Carter in awhile by then. But that moment, as he had me in his arms, I felt that the night was perfect.

And yes, that was when I realized that I did like him. I had a starstruck sort of crush on him. If I had given him the chance, my feelings may even have changed to more than just a crush.

Things didn’t go any further than that one dance. When the song was over, he escorted me back to Carlo, with a kiss goodbye.

Because the summer after that, things changed.

Mistaken

When I first saw her, I thought she was a spoiled, selfish brat. I was wrong.

A couple of months after she moved into my dormitory, I realized there was much more to her. She’s smart and fun, and well, she’s pretty amazing. A few months later, I got to know her better and apparently, the spoiled brat with the perfect life had a lot of issues, and her life was far from perfect.

For someone so young, she was damaged in such a way that she felt happiness eludes her. Her heart was broken into pieces, and everytime I see her cry, it’s as if my own heart was ripped out of my chest as well.

It wasn’t long before we became good friends, and eventually, she became my best friend.

I don’t know what it was about her that made us click, but it seemed to me that she understood me and all my issues. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to protect her from every bad thing in her world.

Your first love is the hardest to forget, and in her case, being in love with someone who she thought did not care as much as she did, letting go of that first love is hard.

Most of what I shared with Beth was about one girl, Daisy. She had her woes, I had mine. Daisy was my best friend, and first love. I thought she loved me, but as it turned out, she didn’t. It has been years since we really talked. Daisy’s practically a stranger to me now.

I don’t know how it happened, maybe because we had the same problems about people we love. With all the movie marathons, walks under the stars, and strolls on the beach, sharing our problems and being there for one another, I stopped caring about Daisy, and somehow, I think I fell for her.

Of course, Beth is too pretty and pampered to be with me. I’m like an older brother to her, that’s all there is to it.

Then suddenly, she stopped the tears. It’s as if the months of crying never happened. She just pulled herself together. For all the times that I was there for her, it was her turn to pull me back up when I’m the one who’s down.

When I finally gathered the courage to hold her hand in mine, she didn’t let go. When I hugged her, she hugged me back. When I told her I love her, she gave me a big smile and told me she loves me too.

Then she started calling me “dear” or “dearest” and sometimes she refers me as a “knight”.

Of course, I forgot that she’s a princess, and a princess always ends up with a prince. She certainly deserves one.

I have misread so many of her actions. See, Beth is anything but conventional.

When she came back to school after summer vacation, I learned from the way our friends were talking that she was in a relationship.

That hurt.

See, I thought she felt the same way that I felt for her.

What angered me was that I learned from our friends that she got together with the guy who made her cry, and that she did not tell me herself. In fact, she didn’t contact me that entire summer.

Little did I know that while I was thinking about her, she was getting back together with her first love.

“Beth, congratulations for finally being in a relationship,” Martin teased her while we were sitting outside our boarding house one day.

“Thanks, dear.” She said in reply, with a smile that lit up her pretty face.

“Tell us the how it happened.” Patrick wheedled.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Long story.”

Ralph gave her a pat on the back. “Aww, come on, our little tomboy is a girl now, so share.”

I just sat there hoping she wouldn’t have to let me go through the agony of listening to the story of her and that guy.

“Fine, if you are really curious, my dear…” she gave in.

I never realized before that she calls her friends “dear” because I thought that she uses that term exclusively for me. How very wrong I was.

I couldn’t take it. I left after a few minutes, because hearing her become a star-struck teenager in love is too much to bear.

I spent that semester not speaking to her, and I know that it made her wonder why. But it hurt too much to know that I believed in the wrong things, that I thought she loved me that way.

I talked to our mutual close friend, Tony, a few weeks after I found out about her summer romance. “Does she have a term of endearment for you?” I asked when we came around to talking about Beth.

“She calls me ‘dear’” he said.

“She calls a lot of people that?”

“Yeah, she had a lot of endearments for her friends.”

“Does she tell you she loves you?”

Tony was looking at me strangely by then. “Of course. She always tells her friends that she loves them.”

I changed the subject then, before he suspects anything, although I think I asked one question too many.

I guess I was mistaken. Beth was just really sweet to her friends. What I thought are things she says only to me, she actually says to a lot of people.

 

It was kind of weird that I don’t talk to her. But ever since she came back, there was something about her that’s different. The fragile girl I used to know was gone, and in her place was a beautiful person who had happiness emanate from her. I know that the change was good, but I wasn’t too happy about it because with her happiness, she doesn’t need me anymore.

Not that she ever did. I just hoped that maybe, just maybe she did. I wanted her to.

Whether or not we were friends, that semester was the busiest that she has ever been. She had been spending most of her time with her best friend and thesis partner. When they’re not discussing their study, they’re with Tony and their other friends, discussing a fund raiser for a charity cause. Or they’re out with their classmates organizing advertising campaigns and events.

She’s rarely ever alone anymore.

It’s been more than a year since I talked to her.

Then out of the blue, I receive an email from her.

I didn’t know what to feel, or how to feel, really.

I just started reading.

Hi.

I know I have not made any effort to communicate the past year and a half, and I didn’t earn the right to explain my actions. But I want to, because I know you well enough to know that you’d be mulling over the whys.

Two summers ago, I spent some time away and retreated to my favourite place in the world. It is a place both foreign and familiar to me. It is the place where I know I can somehow manage to find myself, and sort out the bits and pieces of my life. I figured that finding myself, meant that I had to put some parts of my life in boxes that are better kept at the back of my closet… or buried somewhere, not to be opened again.

I spent that summer categorizing my relationships: the great ones which I have to really take care of; the good ones which I have to maintain; and the bad ones that I better let go.

When I assessed my relationship with you…I realized that, sad as it was, our friendship was unhealthy for me. I rarely got to see my other friends, my depression fed off on your own, and somehow, I was angrier at the world than I usually am. Just to be clear, I am not blaming you for that. It’s just that instead of making me better, your own anger at the world around you rubbed off on me somehow. My grades slipped, my enthusiasm diminished, and I rarely get to see my other friends. I was rarely in my dorm room that even my relationship with my roommates became fragile. And then, when I saw you in the beginning of the semester, and you did not express any support at all for my then new relationship with my first love…the one person I love most in the entire world. That made me awkward, somehow. It made me think that maybe, what others were saying the past two years were true after all. I did not want to judge, but it was too awkward, that it was easier to stay away.

You know, I found, that despite all the hurt and drama, my first love meant…and still means the world to me. He makes me happy, and he makes me feel safe, and he makes me want to be a better person than I really am. My grades went up, I got to spend time with my friends, and I was at my happiest. Our relationship was far from perfect. But it did not matter because you see, I love him so, so much.

I know that it’s crazy, but I’d rather have all the drama that comes with being with him, than be without him at all. We really can’t be without one another, you know. I am terrified of losing him, and he’s much more terrified of losing me. He will always be my prince, and I, his princess.

I’m happy. I have my life back together.

I hope you’re doing well. Always take care of yourself.

-Beth

She always had a way with words.

There’s really nothing else that we have to say. She’s happy, and in love. I can’t do anything to change that.

I didn’t reply to her email.

I thought I knew her, but Beth is anything but predictable.

And apparently, everything I thought about us, I was mistaken.

Doubt

It was bright and sunny outside when I woke up, very much unlike how I’m feeling. I looked at the person beside me, and despite my foul mood, I smiled.

Luke always looked so peaceful when he is asleep. I traced his face, like I’m trying to memorize him by heart. Luckily, he sleeps like a rock, he didn’t even stir. I kissed him lightly on the forehead, then turned the other side as I tried to go back to sleep.

But I can’t seem to, because hundreds of thoughts came rushing; Thoughts which I put at the back of my mind because I had too many things to deal with. But the thoughts that I tried so hard to avoid finally caught up on me. One in particular have been haunting me for quite a while, and I had no idea how long it will be before it ruins everything.

I had no idea how long I lay there, when I felt Luke’s arms wrap around me as he pulled me closer to him. “Good morning…” he greeted me in a sleepy but cheerful voice.

I turned to face him. “Good morning.”

He gave me a look. “Early in the morning and your mind is already elsewhere,” he observed. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

“I know you better than that, Chrissie.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I mumbled sleepily.

He pulled me closer to him, and I snuggled into his chest, wishing things would always stay fairy tale happy with us.

“I love you.” He told me in a low voice.

I know he does, but I pulled away and looked right into his eyes. “Why?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why do you love me? I just want to know.”

He started laughing. “Because, silly, I just do.”

I frowned. “Yes, I know you do. But, why?” my voice started to get the slightest bit whiny, and I was getting exasperated.

He started ticking off reasons, but after awhile, he stopped and gave me a hard look. “The list could go on and on, you know. What’s up, really?”

“I just wanted to know.”

He still looked doubtful, but he gave in. “Okay then. I love you because I just do, and I don’t know what it’s like not to have you.”

I didn’t say anything for awhile. Then, “We’ve been through a lot this past year, haven’t we?”

“Too many.” He agreed.

We lay there for awhile longer, ignoring the sun rising higher in the sky. He started playing with my hair. “I never would have gotten through all those things without you, you know.” He told me.

I nodded absently. “That’s why I was there… to help you through all of them.”

The problem was that my mouth and my brain are disconnected, and I have a tendency to blurt things out without thinking twice about what I am going to say.

“Luke, do you love me because you need me, or do you need me because you love me?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

He looked hurt and confused. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Just answer the question, please.” I asked again while avoiding his gaze. I can’t bear to see the hurt look in his eyes.

“For someone who I’ve dated for such a long time, that’s pretty crappy of you to ask something like that.”

I turned away from him. “That didn’t answer anything.”

I felt him move away from me. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry. I hate the feeling of distrust for this relationship. Luke and I have been together for a long time. We went through too many trials in the time we’ve been together. We have been there for each other through all the crap in our lives, and somehow, I had it in my mind that he’s in this because he needed me, not because he loved me.

“Hey.” Luke touched my arm gently, and I felt his weight in front of me as he sat down on the edge of my side of the bed. I opened my eyes, and there he was, looking at me with that tender look on his face.

“Chrissie, sit up and listen.” He said in a gentle but firm voice. I obliged.

“I love you, that’s that. I don’t know what it’s like not to have you in my life now, because you have been a big part of it for a long time. I don’t know what it’s like to not have met you because meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I was blinking back tears, and he held my hand.

“I won’t tell you that I can’t live without you, because I can. I know I can, because there was a time in my life that you weren’t there yet, and I was okay then.”

My heart was sinking into my stomach.

“But I don’t want to, because now that I have you, I knew what it felt like to be happy for unexplainable reasons, and I’m better as a whole. In the end, it all boils down to one thing: I’m here because I want to be here, because I want to be with you.”

Tears started spilling down my cheeks, and he wiped them away.

“So, to answer your question, I need you because I love you. I will be here for you when it’s your turn to have crap in your life, and you can push me further and further away if you wish, but I won’t give up on you and on us. I will be here for you when it’s your turn to need me. I need you because I love you, and it was a blessing that as it turned out, you are the person I needed to make it through.”

He hugged me tightly and I started crying into his chest.

The problem was, I cannot bring myself to believe a single word that he just said.

Together

My life is full of ironies. I, myself, am full of ironies. As it turned out, even my relationships are ironic in their own ways.

Alex and I were never close. Even as a couple, we were a bit awkward around each other, and the silence when we’re together can somewhat be deafening. Until recently, I never really understood why we were that way.

See, Alex and I were never really friends. I couldn’t remember a time when my feelings for him were ever plainly platonic. It has always been more than just that.

For most couples who, like us, were never really friends to begin with, will have no friendship to go back to after they end their relationships. Those people will tend to dislike each other, and eventually, they will stop communicating altogether.

For us, the breakup was probably the most heartbreaking, most depressing, most unfathomable thing that ever happened in our story. However, for some weird reason, it was also one of the best things that happened to us, so long as we’re talking about our relationship for the long run.

See, the breakup turned our relationship around.

After the incident, Alex promised to tell me when something bothers him, or makes him feel sad or anything at all that is less than a positive emotion that he should share. I promised to keep things in the strictest confidence. I promised I will be there.

Like most of our relationship, we were away from each other, but this time, we were broken up, and I was broken bad.

We talked to each other a lot, and we talked about things that we can’t really share with anyone else. It somehow strengthened the brittle string which held what’s left of our relationship.

When Alex asked to get back together, I had a fleeting thought that I have to say no. For what it’s worth, even though it hurt to be with him, I liked the state our relationship was in: open, honest, trusting.

I liked the state of our relationship because it wasn’t until we were broken up that I felt Alex needed me at some point. It wasn’t until we were broken up that I felt Alex actually opened himself up to me, that he actually cared.

I was afraid that getting back together might screw us up again.

When the result of the Board Exam was released after he went back home, Alex called to inform me that he passed. Even through the phone, I could feel the happiness emanating from him. He was absolutely high with happiness. To process his license, he will have to come back.

And the thought of seeing him again made my heart go crazy.

When he finally arrived, it was as if we were never broken up. In fact, we were more like a couple than when we were actually dating. We spent so much time together, that people figured that they can’t see one without the other, except when I’m in class and he’s with his usual night with friends.

To other people, we looked like we were a couple, more so than when we were actually dating. It looked like it, it feels like it, and we weren’t doing anything to make it stop. The feelings certainly were still there, that it seemed pointless not to get back together.

So why shouldn’t we just be back together?

If only things were simple as that. But they weren’t. They never were.

We tend to hurt the people who love us, and the ones we love tend to hurt us. But we go through all of it because those people are important.

See, Alex have hurt me more times than I can count. The sad part is that he had no idea how much. He had no idea about the nights I spent crying into my friends’ shoulders. The number of handkerchiefs I drenched with tears.

Getting back together with him will hurt more people. It will hurt the people who have been with me through all the crap, because those people hated the way I cried my eyes out when things between me and Alex were less than good.

Caleb would hate me. He was there for me for everything, and he hated how I put up with so much for one person who would not go to the ends of the earth for me, when I would go to hell and back for him.

Richard would not like it either, but I think he would be more understanding. He had been waiting for one girl to go back to him for years, and he will still welcome her with open arms if she ever returns. I think Richard will understand how I feel.

Then, there are my parents, who told me, outright not to get back together with Alex. It’s not that they disliked him. As far as boyfriends went, they actually liked him. The problem was the incident. They are concerned about the fact that Alex is emotionally unstable, and I, of all people needed stability.

People do stupid things when they are in love.

Despite my better judgment, I love him. I always have. And I’m willing to put up with a lot because of that. I’m willing to put up with all the hurt and disappointment until my heart can’t do it anymore, because when you love someone, you will do everything for that person. You will do anything and everything you can until you can’t do it anymore.

Getting back together with Alex was probably the most stupid decision I made. I knew that at some point, he will hurt and disappoint me again, and I will do the same to him.

But see, even through all the hurt and disappointment that I know I will have to go through in my relationship with him, I also know that I’d be happier in that state than be without him at all.

I have no idea how long we will last, because even though I wanted Alex to be “the one” we have no control over what the future will bring.

The love thing probably won’t last as long as I wanted it to. But for now, even with hurt and disappointment hanging like dark clouds, Alex makes me happy. Happiness is a choice, isn’t it?

This may not last. We may not last. But I love Alex, I really do, and I know he loves me too. Choosing to get back together may not be the best decision I made, but this is my heart on the line here, and my heart can still take drama.

But it can’t take not being with the one person I ever truly loved.

 

 

Incomplete

She remembered a conversation she once had with him.

“We’d be good together…don’t you think?” he asked her.

“No.” She answered.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll break your heart.”

“Maybe I’ll break yours.” He countered.

She looked at him with her wide, glaring eyes. “Nobody breaks my heart.”

But someone did. He did. He broke her heart into a million pieces.

For a time, while she was with him, she thought that love made things better. She thought she was better. She thought it was about time to allow herself to fall in love, and allow someone to fall in love with her and keep her close.

So she allowed herself to fall in love with Freddie, and she allowed him to love her back.

He fought her battles for her. When the demons came to get her, he fought them for her. He made sure they can’t hurt her. He was the light in her dark place. He knew before anyone else did that she was fighting a bad condition, so he took care of her. And when she tried to kill herself that one time, he was the one who saved her.

Freddie made her go mad. She loved — loves him so much. Too much. He made her weak. He got to her, and nobody gets to her. She was right. When they finally got together, they were too happy for their own good. Happiness like that never stays. Someone’s bound to take that sort of happiness away.

She can’t believe that he’ll just disappear like that. She refused to believe that Freddie would leave her after all that has happened. They have been through too many things together. He can’t just go.

Or maybe because it was precisely that: they have been through too many things together, and he got tired of having to take care of her all the time.

When he still didn’t show up for his birthday, she felt that he really did leave her. Maybe he got scared. She was pretty scary.

Besides, people always leave.

Her older brother Tony did. Her dad did. Freddie did. Even Cook, who was a good for nothing jerk did.

She didn’t see Cook since the party they held for Freddie on his birthday. Maybe he’s on the run again. He was not cleared of his charges yet.

It’s been weeks now since she last saw Freddie and Cook.

She had been smoking in her room again, when someone knocked loudly on her door.

“Effy!”

“What?” she opened the door irritably and standing in front of her was Freddie’s sister.

Karen was sobbing, and despite the fact that they hate each other’s guts, Effy hugged her.

“Don’t do that. Don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She guided Karen to her bed, and they both sat down.

She was still sobbing too hard; she was not able to say anything. When she calmed down a bit, she dug into her bag and slapped a folded piece of notebook on Effy’s lap.

Effy opened it reluctantly, and saw that it was Freddie’s.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

She flipped through it. All throughout the notebook were the same words in Freddie’s handwriting. She started crying.

He would not just leave her, right?

“Where did you find this, Karen?”

“I gave that to Cook, because I know that there’s something wrong. Freds won’t just leave, won’t he?”

She flipped to a page. In large black ink, Freddie wrote words that chilled Effy to the bone.

“Who’s John Foster?” Karen asked.

“He was my therapist.”

“Why would he want to hurt you then, Ef?”

“I don’t know…” she mused. Then she snapped. “You can go now, Karen.”

Cook would probably be on the run. But he’ll find a way to contact her.

She cannot wait for him though. She needs to know where Freddie is. She will have to find him on her own.

First, she would have to go to the hospital to find out where John Foster moved. He will have answers.

She picked up her phone.

“Katie. I need your help.”

A half hour later, the entire gang was assembled at Naomi’s place. “We can’t let you go alone now, could we, Ef?” Naomi said to her. “It’s dangerous, especially if he really wants to hurt you.”

Effy’s phone rang. It was a blocked number.

“Ef, Ef.” It was Cook.

“Where are you? Where’s Freddie?”

“He hurt him. He hurt Freds Ef. Bring the police to his house. He hurt Freds.”

“Who did, Cook? Who hurt Freddie?”

Effy was starting to breathe unevenly. Her friends looked concerned.

“John Foster. John Foster hurt Freddie.”

The connection got cut.

Effy fell on the couch, feeling faint, scared. Angry.

Three hours later, John Foster’s residence was swarming with police. Dead bodies have been found buried in the backyard. Effy hoped with all her heart that Freddie isn’t one of them.

Then, and unmistakeable form. Even through the rotting flesh and dirt covering him, Effy could tell that it was Freddie. Her Freddie.

She started screaming.

Then everything went black.

When she woke up, she was back at the beginning. Her mum was on a seat beside her bed, and Katie and Panda were sitting by the window.

She had been asleep for three days.

When she realized why she was back in a hospital, she started crying. Anthea hugged her. “Freddie’s in a better place now sweetheart. Let’s just work on you getting better for now, shall we?” she said in a gentle voice.

But she won’t feel better. She will never get better. How could she, when she’s incomplete without him?

Freddie is gone, and she’s alone.

The demons were back for her, and she can’t fight them any longer.

First

I called it love, others called it stupidity.

She was the first girl I ever loved. I was thirteen that time, and I fell in love with a girl who nobody ever thought I would fall for.

Melissa was beautiful. She had dark brown hair, deep brown eyes which flash when she is angry, and sparkles when she’s happy, and had a beautiful smile that stretches from ear to ear when she thinks about that one special guy.

I was thirteen when I first met Melissa, and she was one of the most complicated people I ever met. She’s sweet and fierce, and she never lets anyone boss her around. She’s brutal and fragile, careful and careless. She was the epitome of irony.

When we started being friends, I realized that she was no angel. But I was on a hook. Everything about her drew me in. We spent a lot of time together, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, she would like me the way I like her: head over heels.

I was so fascinated by her charms, I was blind to the obvious: No matter how close we seem to be, there was a boy who made her eyes sparkle with stars, made her cheeks flush a deep red, and made her smile stretch from ear to ear.

I was a boy in love with a girl I never had the chance with. But I can’t bear the thought of not letting her know how I feel because maybe, just maybe, she’s going to want to be with me too.

I think that for the most part, my classmates egged me on for the laughs. She’s too far beyond my reach, and everyone, including myself knew that.

But I had to tell her. It was heart-pounding and nerve-wrecking, but I did.

More than a month later, she said yes.

My friends in school and from church were shocked. You see, they all said the same thing: she’s too pretty to be with me. She’s too high up on the social ladder. She’s too far beyond my reach.

They were jealous.

And then I realized that there are some things that no matter how hard you wish for them to come true, they just won’t.

Melissa can be cruel. Even while we were supposed to be dating, she was emotionally attached to someone else who, as it turned out, liked her back. Not that he did anything about it. But when he passes by, I can see her flush, and I knew that somehow, she never really liked me the way that she liked Oliver.

It didn’t take long for her to break up with me, and as much as I hated to admit it, it hurt badly.

I guess I should have realized she never really cared, because while we were together, she didn’t as much as let me hold her hand, or take her home, or do any of the couple stuff for that matter.

I was thirteen, in seventh grade, and I had my first heartache.

It hurt, but I had the entire summer to recover.

Eighth grade came, and I wasn’t over her. When I see her in the halls, she still had that effect on me. Never mind the fact that talking to her was as awkward as it could get.

Ninth grade, we were in the same classes again, and she acted like I don’t exist. I see her with boys left and right. She always had boy friends around her. She claimed they were just friends, but I saw the same look in their eyes when they are with her. She had them tied around her little finger without her even knowing it.

By the end of Ninth grade, I’m pretty sure I still had feelings for her.

But I knew better, and I know I wold never stand a chance anymore, especially since I learned from a classmate that she was in between two guys,  both of whom she really liked. I thought, whoever she ends up with will be a lucky bastard, because she would have genuine feelings for the guy, and he would not experience being strung along with her little finger like me, and like several others I know.

It’s been a while, and I have not seen her for about five years.

The last I heard, she was with the guy I could never compete with, because she was half in love with him while she was using me as bait. She and Oliver have been together for a long time, and yes, my first love toyed with my heart, but still, she deserved to be happy, and it seemed to me that she got her fairy tale come true.

Melissa was my first love, and she was the first girl to break my heart. She was cruel, but heck, she deserves her happily ever after.